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About Kyoto

Alright, y’all, listen up! I’m Dr. Phil, southern as sweet tea, talkin’ bout prostitutes today—yep, them gals workin’ the streets. How’s that workin’ for ya, huh? Sellin’ your body, dodgin’ cops, livin’ wild? I reckon it’s a mess, but lemme tell ya somethin’—I ain’t judgin’, just observin’. Watched *Zodiac*—you know, my fave flick, Fincher’s a genius—and it got me thinkin’. That line, “I’m not Paul Avery,” hits hard. Prostitutes prolly feel that too—stuck in a role, not who they are deep down. Ain’t that a kicker?

Sex Girls in Sendai-shi

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First stop, I hit up the local market on Kōen-dōri. It’s buzzing! Fresh fish, fruits, and all that jazz. I’m sniffin’ around, and OMG, the smell of grilled yakitori hits me like a freight train. I’m drooling, like a total mess. I grab a skewer, and it’s like heaven in my mouth. But then, this dude bumps into me. Like, c’mon man, watch where you’re going! I spill my yakitori all over my shirt. Ugh, so mad!

Internal Structures and Growth Style of a Quaternary Subaerial Rhyodacite Cryptodome at Ogariyama, Usu Volcano, Hokkaido, Japan